"So, what's the plan for the evening, brilliant brother?" Gliri asked. "More walking around or a little more puking?"

Muscardini gave his sister a pathetic look which was followed by a 'hurk' sound which gave her a very good idea of what they'd be doing next. What he'd be doing, anyway. It had been curiosity which had prompted him to try munching on an oddly-colored plant. Gliri had warned him that plants weren't meant to be eaten unless the goal was vomiting, but he'd said he recognized the plant and it would settle his stomach.

"Less laughter, more sympathy, please," Muscar groaned, falling into a crouch while his stomach heaved.

Gliri stepped closer, taking care to avoid the splash zone and licked his forehead from behind. "I'm sorry. I know you're suffering. You'll be all right once it's all come up. Or out. I guess it doesn't really matter which end it comes from, as long as it comes out."

His sister's words sent a burble of laughter to Muscar's gut which mixed badly with his nausea and produced a foul-smelling belch. Smelling it, Muscar backed up hastily, aware that Gliri was doing the same. He gave her an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry. I know this is no fun for you, either. But I am feeling much better than I was earlier." He leaned against her and propped his chin on her head.

"Off. You smell." Gliri shivered and her ears pricked forward as Muscar complied. "I think we have an audience."

Muscar looked around blearily, but he didn't see anything. Probably because his eyes were all gummed up with gunk. He was miserable and she was making jokes about how he smelled. The fact that they had an audience might have worried him at another time, but his whole head felt too full and fuzzy to think.

Fortunately, Gliri was more alert than her brother, and so her ears and eyes were tuned to detecting the audience she thought she'd noticed. "I might have been mistaken, but I do wish you'd lend me some assistance here."

"Gliri, love, I don't see or hear anything. But I can smell something really nasty. Is that really what I smell like?" He wrinkled his nose and squirmed a little farther from where he'd been crouched before.

Gliri sniffed tentatively and then her nose wrinkled distastefully, too. "I honestly don't know if that's you or something else, but I think we should probably move this fun little party somewhere else. Somewhere where the air is less...pungent."

"Hurk," Muscar agreed, belching another foul-smelling burp. He shut his eyes and shook his head, trying not to smell the unpleasantness of that. He had no idea what in the hells he'd eaten, but he would never, ever eat it again.

"Oh, Muscar. I'm sorry. I really am. Let's keep going," Gliri said. She wasn't sure whether she'd heard anything or not, but she'd feel more comfortable in a safer place. Somewhere not home, though. If Muscar was going to be sick and messy, she didn't want him to do it in their den.

Muscar turned his blue eyes piteously toward his sister, pleading wordlessly to be allowed to just be sick and be still. He wanted to remind her of all those months he had spent at her side while she was out of her mind with fever, but he couldn't do that. She knew she had been ill, but she had forgotten what had caused her illness to begin with, and Muscar wasn't going to remind her. He didn't like to think about it, himself.

Gliri, unaware of what thoughts were going through her twin's mind because she was unable to recall the memories which prompted them, interpreted Muscar's expression as one of illness-related misery. She could understand this, and she was trying to be loving and nurturing, for although she couldn't remember being ill, she remembered recovering from her illness and being told that it had been a very long period of illness and the convalescence had been long, too. She still had weak days even now.

"Are you sure you can't move just a bit with me? It would be better if we weren't caught out in the open. Especially not like this," she said nervously.

She meant, of course, that she didn't wish to be caught in the open while her brother was ill, because if something should come up on them, no matter how great her love for her brother, Gliri knew her cowardice would drive her to retreat, or even flee, leaving her sick twin to his fate. She would rather not be forced into that situation. Fortunately, Muscar knew her well enough to intuit this for himself, and so he made an effort to get to his feet properly.

"Sorry, Gliri. I know you don't like this," he said, his head hanging low as he walked, leaning on his sister as much as he could without overbalancing her.

"Well, I expect you don't either," Gliri replied, licking his ear. "When we get to someplace safe, I'll tell you a story. Will that make things a little more bearable?"

He nodded, dragging his head up and then dropping it again. Gliri interpreted it as a nod, anyway. She didn't need to think too hard about what story she would tell her brother. It would be another one about the healer Lacu. She liked telling stories about him, and Muscar seemed to like hearing about him. But that was secondary to finding a safe place to spend the rest of the night. Judging by her brother's weary gait, sooner would be better.

"Is that...?" Muscar began.

He didn't need to finish. Gliri saw it and murmured an affirmative, accompanied by an encouraging lick. She followed this up by saying, "You're going to be fine. Once you've got that plant out of your system, you'll be just fine. Tonight I'll tell you some more about Lacu, about how he helped the ruler of a mighty pride and his young bride. Tomorrow everything will be better."

They reached the sheltered knoll Muscar had spotted and settled in. Muscar didn't make it through very much of Gliri's story, but that didn't matter to her. Amazingly, Gliri's prediction for the morrow was proven correct: it was better.